Wax & Wane
by twilightdoesitagain
Summary: New Moon from Edward's perspective
1. Everything Ends

WAX AND WANE

Chapter One: Everything Ends

And then, in such slow motion, as though time itself had frozen, it all happened at once: the scent of Bella's blood crashing over me, hitting my face with the same violence as the first time I met her — the wrecking ball —, my mouth flooding with venom, my muscles involuntarily tensing for the attack. But, not a fraction of one second later, before Bella's lips could even part, before she could even gather the breath to gasp, there was a shouting over the fury of my own wrestling impulses: Jasper's wordless thoughts. He did not pause. He did not plan. His body lurched towards Bella as a tantalizingly sweet single drop of blood slid from the slit at the top for her finger. Before the drop hit the ground, I was able to grab ahold of my appetite. The instinct to protect this tiny, precious, fragile girl took over.

"No!" Burst from me like a tsunami crashing on the shore.

I flung my arm out to distance her from Jasper's snapping teeth. I was too strong. Bella crashed against a stack of glass plates and as she dropped to the ground, the cacophony of thoughts was deafening.

_No Edward! _Alice thought

_I can't. The scent, it's too strong_. Esme glanced in my direction as she side-stepped the bloody scene that seemed to be unfolding still.

_Jasper! No! Stop! Get ahold of yourself. Remember who you are! _Carlisle and Emmett thought simultaneously over each other as they grabbed at his arms.

Rosalie, still has a statue, rolled her eyes. _I told you this would happen. She's _human, she practically spat at me before silently stepping over the threshold and out of the room.

It had been less than five seconds, but every single one of my worst fears had been realized.

Bella's blood was spilled and I was only barely able to control myself; it wasn't even surprising that Jasper had been overcome by it. I couldn't even blame him. And there Bella sat, in the wreckage of her own birthday party, dripping blood from a very deep, very human wound.

But worst of all, Rosalie was right. The worst was bound to happen. And then it had.

Bella's arm was gashed from wrist to elbow. I could see the tiny flecks of glass that lodged in her still-pulsing flesh. Holding the seeping cut with her good hand, she shrunk further to the wall, realizing the grave danger she was suddenly in. Tears of rage, terror, and guilt welled in her eyes and she broke our gaze to glance down at the mess around her.

_This is wrong. _

I knew it was wrong. I should have never let this happen. Not just tonight. Not just letting Bella bleed. Not just letting Jasper get close to her. Not just letting Bella — sweet, delicious, more tempting than any human, Bella — into a house full of vampires where she is more in danger than any other person could ever possibly be.

I should have never let Bella into my life. Period.

As Carlisle approached to clean Bella up, the weight of my choices crashed down on me. Once again, I was frozen, but this time in grief.

_This is wrong_, I thought again to myself.

And there was only one way to right it.

It has to end.

—

While Carlisle stitched Bella up in his office — something so ludicrous, I almost had to laugh: my human girlfriend receiving stitches from my father because my brother had nearly killed her over a papercut — I went to speak with Jasper. I went to relieve him of his guilt, to alleviate him of his pain.

He was seated on the couch in the room he shared with Alice. I could tell he was trying not to breathe. The urge to leave to room, to follow the scent down the hall was too strong. Alice sat beside him whispering too-fast reassurances. _It's ok, Jazz, nothing happened. You won't do it again._

_You won't do it again because you'll never see her again. None of us will. _I thought coldly to myself.

_Alices eyes flickered unseeingly in my direction. Then, with a gasp that bordered on a sob, "Edward, no! Please!"_

"It's the way it has to be, Alice." I said without meeting her gaze.

"Please," she begged again. "I'll keep extra close attention on Jasper. You don't have to worry."

"No. I've decided. It's final."

Her thoughts flickered as the future turned over like a flipbook with the pages stuck together. She kept trying to override my decision to leave with her own decision to stay, trying to show me that everything would be ok. But I knew that everything would not be ok.

It was terrible. The worst imaginable pain.

I honestly didn't know how I would force myself to leave this place, to leave Bella, to go on existing without her, but I knew I could not stay here. I could not be a fixture in her world.

I had _already_ ruined her life. If I stayed, I'd be taking it away from her.

Finally, I met Alice's eyes. She could see there was no use fighting it. She let go of Jasper's hand and walked lithely to her closet, where she pulled down a suitcase and began filling it with her clothes. Her disgruntled huff might have come off as cute in any other circumstance, but tonight it was just another straw on my very burdened back. I could see she was only humoring me. Perhaps playing along in an effort to show me how silly I was being. That it would be so much trouble to pack up and leave, I'd eventually realize it wasn't worth it. There were no secrets between my sister and I, and I knew this wouldn't work.

I turned without even looking at Jasper and headed down to hall to collect Bella.

—

The car ride to her father's house was excruciating. I couldn't make myself say the words, not yet, so I drove silently, my hands gripping the wheel so tightly I nearly bent it under the weight of my tension. Though the cab was filling with saccharine scent of Bella's healing wound, I knew now that she was safer than she had ever been, but not as safe as she would be tomorrow, and the next day.

I inhaled deeply and let the aroma ruin me.

It blazed like fire down my throat and roiled in my chest. I felt it burning in my veins, and I invited every searing moment, for these were my last few minutes with her, and though I already wished she had forgotten me, I never wanted to forget her.

I pulled the truck to the curb in front of the house and cut the engine. Still unable to say anything, I let my hands fall to my lap. I was defeated. Bella drew a long breath and I could feel her trying to form the words beside me. Perhaps she was waiting for me to look over at her, but I couldn't make my neck turn.

Finally, she spoke. "Well, it's still my birthday, can I ask one thing?"

How could I deny her one last thing? How could I depart this place and leave her wanting? Whatever the wish, I could grant it, just for tonight. By this time tomorrow, there would be an oceans-worth of space between us.

In a last show of my inhuman speed, I opened the drivers side door, darted around the bulbous front of the truck, and was at her door. I pulled it open, and the heat of her body drawing closer to mine enveloped me like a caress.

"Kiss me," her voice cracked, husky from the tears. I reached for her.

The kiss cut me. It was like a thousand lashes. It drowned me. I was submerged within it. It beat me. The feel of her impossibly soft lips against mine was like a gut punch. It left me breathless, aching, broken.

And just like that, it was over. Same as I always had done, when I felt the fire within me burning not just for her blood, I gently but firmly separated us. I tried not to imagine what it would be like if I were human. The reckless abandon with which I could kiss her would border the force of an earthquake. I'd never let her go.

But tonight, in this life, I had to release her. Not only from my crushing embrace, but from the prison of my love. I had to untrap her, with the same unyielding, tender force with which I had ended our kiss, I would have to end our relationship.

I left her in the street, panting.

I walked off into the night and as soon as the darkness obliterated her human eyes, I took off running. The green forest, bleached grey in the moonlight, blurred by me as I tried not to think of what I knew would have to happen next.

—

When I arrived home a few moments later, the sting of Bella's kiss still burning my lips, there was an awkward tension in the air. I sampled the thoughts in the house, and found that Carlisle had called a meeting in the wake of tonight's events.

We gathered again at the oblong dining table we kept only for show. Our seating arrangement echoed eerily the night we had assembled to discuss my future with Bella, only months ago. How reluctant I had been then to allow myself and my family to love Bella. For good reason. Had I known the terrible turn our lives would take, I would have stayed in Alaska.

Alice had only just now resigned herself to the idea of leaving Bella and this iteration of our lives behind. I could tell that she still clung to hope that I would relent. Watching the flickers of the future play in her mind resolved my decision further. Seeing Alice's stone arm coiled around Bella's waist, Bella's smile her in mind's eye, it turned my stomach. That could never be. It was robbery.

Everyone sat silently, understanding the gravity of the evening, but not explicitly knowing what I meant to do.

"We are done here."

Esme's head snapped in my direction. At first she misunderstood.

"I'm not leaving the family. We," I gestured broadly around the table, "are leaving Forks."

"Oh come on, Edward. Over a little speck of blood? Now we have to start all over again?" Rosalie whined from somewhere to the left of me.

"Please, Rosalie. You're supposed to be pretending to be in college anyway, right?" I inhaled, anticipating a speech. "I just can't be here anymore. I can't continue to endanger Bella's life. It's easier if we all leave. A clean break is what Bella will need to heal. It's what —"

Carlisle held up his hand gently to stop my ramblings. "Edward is right. He is drawing a boundary and we must all defer to him — this affects him most. If any of us believe that we can not control ourselves, it's time to move on before suspicion arises. We've done it before and we will do it again." He placed his hands flat on the table. "We'll do it now."

I had so much to thank my father for, and this moment was no exception. I heaved a sigh of relief that I did not have to toil longer to convince the rest of my family. But just as the warmth of satisfaction from the resolution of this issue began to take hold, my mother spoke.

"Edward, honey. Are you sure? This breaks my heart. You've waited, we've waited, so long for you to find your mate. Surely, there must be something —"

"No. I love her enough to know that I have to leave her. If we stay here, eventually something like this will happen again. Maybe it won't be Jasper, it could be any one of the nomads, or the _wolves_, or possibly even, me." My voice choked on the last word. "I have to leave her to save her."

I put my foot down about leaving and though no one agreed with me, especially not Alice and especially not at first, they all relented.

We all sat stone silent for some time after we had agreed. I think the shock of the evening was settling in over us. I pushed out the thoughts of the others and tried to think of what to do next. I knew Bella was at home, probably restlessly sleeping without me to comfort her, but I took solace knowing she was safer there without me. I knew she'd be waking up for school soon. And I knew we had to get moving.

It took a few short hours to pack the house. The smaller things went in boxes, the larger furniture was hauled off to storage. Though packing had become rote after countless moves, focusing on the logistics helped to keep me on the path.

I could have been so easily dissuaded from my plan, but the memory of Bella's seeping arm, the ravenous look in Jasper's eye, and the roll of my still-eager stomach wouldn't let me divert my plan.

It was time to go.


	2. Wasting, wasting

Dawn broke over Forks with a pearl gray stillness. The night spent silently rushing around the house in our nearly choreographed going away dance had given way to a stone cold frozen tableau of vampires in various stages of grief.

With the last of our things packed, Rosalie and Emmett were the first to leave. I didn't even bother to listen to what their plans were for travel. For as much as a fight as Rosalie had put up about having to leave, catching the edge of her excitement about seeing Africa filled me with such a rage, that I crushed the antique jewelry box I'd been holding. I wiped the splinters off on my pants as I watched her deftly reverse her BMW down the driveway only minutes after sunrise.

Alice was working on persuading Jasper to go to Denali and spend time with our cousins. She thought some time with like-minded vampires, who weren't be pretending to be his parents would be good for him. Perhaps he'd find some reassurance in our lifestyle, one they had been living out for centuries.

He wanted utter isolation. I couldn't blame him. Their next move hung in the balance.

I sensed that she wasn't able to see much of _my_ future until my mind was fully made up. Strangely, seeing this in her mind showed me that I wasn't completely decided. Though I didn't know what I was waiting for, I convinced myself I had to go to school this morning.

Carlisle and Esme followed shortly after Rosalie and Emmett. I sensed they were going to Alaska, but didn't bother to ask to confirm. The sheer heartbreak radiating off of Esme was unbearable to be around. As they drove off, I steeled myself for the next steps.

—

_One more day, just to be sure. Perhaps it would look less suspicious if all the Cullen children didn't disappear at once. I should at least turn in my assignments and return my textbooks. _The excuses rattled in my head.

If I tried to say I didn't know why I went to school that morning, I'd be lying. We'd left town with greater haste and with much less waiting before. The truth was, I just had to see that Bella was okay.

I pulled into the parking lot early. The quiet of the morning was wearing off. A frantic energy was brewing inside me, and it took all of my superhuman strength to steady my frame.

I thought again about Jasper. He's guilt was palpable. His emotional energy was usually kept under control, and despite the fact that I could read every thought he had, the degree to which he blamed himself was clear to any vampire who could see him. The pain and regret leeched from him like a heavy cologne, blanketing the room.

It was for this reason, and perhaps that he hadn't fully taken control of his impulses, that he stayed home from school today. We couldn't have a vague sense of dread eliminating from Jasper hanging over the whole school, could we? That, and Alice kept seeing Jasper snapping at Bella's open wound all day.

She wanted him to go to Denali, to spend time with others of our kind. He was reluctant. How could he face these good and pure vampires only hours after he had nearly killed a human?

Regardless, I went to school alone that day. _Don't rock the boat,_ I thought to myself. _Don't let on._

I worried that the second Bella got an inkling that were were planning to leave, hysterics would break out. I had to save the clean break for a moment when it would truly be clean. I couldn't let her suspect. Even though I knew Bella better than anymore, she was still unpredictable, a loose cannon.

I had to be sure there would be only one outcome to my leaving: her survival.

So when her I heard her rusty truck rumbling up the road, I plastered a smile on my face and pretended to be normal.

_Regular day,_ I thought to myself. _Be casual._

I strode up to the driver's side door, just as she opened it.

"How do you feel?" The words felt stupid, flat, meaningless coming out of my mouth, but that was a normal thing to ask, right? My first concern would always be for her safety. That was why I was on this path right now.

"Perfect," she muttered as she slammed the door shut with just a little more gusto than was required for this early in the morning. It was a lie and we both knew it, but there was nothing more that I could say.

I walked her to her first class. She was hunched in the raincoat, taking tiny steps. I had to slow down to keep pace with her. When I left her in her first period class, I spent the rest of the hour watching her through the eyes of her fellow students. She looked a bit as she had on her first day at Forks High. She was isolated, quiet, and a tiny v in her forehead indicated that she was thinking very hard about something. I prayed she wasn't figuring it out.

When I caught up with her at lunch, she was tentative, but direct.

"Where's Alice?" She asked, her voice dripping in anxiety.

"She's with Jasper," was all I could manage to say.

"Is he okay?" She glanced between my face and the granola bar I was wantonly wasting, crumbling between my stone fingers.

"He's gone away for a while." _Please Bella,_ I thought, _just drop it._

"What? Where?"

I shrugged, hoping it came off with a human level of casualness. "Nowhere in particular."

"And Alice, too," she breathed, though I could tell she was screaming inside. Her little head bobbed as though she were nodding, trying to convinced herself of something.

"Yes. She'll be gone for a while." I decided to give a morsel of the truth. "She was trying to convince him to go to Denali."

She swallowed whatever she had been chewing on and slumped in her chair. I watched with a remote form of admiration as she winced in pain.

"Is your arm bothering you?" I asked.

"Who cares about my stupid arm?" She spat in my direction.

I was out of words after that; too afraid to tell the truth, too afraid to hurt her. She lay her head down on the lunch table.

Two hours of following Bella through the minds of our classmates had given me no more insight on her mental state than what I had garnered at lunch, which was very little to begin with.

"You'll come over later tonight?" She peered up at me hopefully. It was strange that she had to ask at all. I had spent every night since last March in the rocking chair of her bedroom from dusk until dawn. I had planned to stay by her side until the last moment, soaking her in. That is, if she still wanted me around.

"Later?" I asked, surprise coloring my voice.

The corner of one side of her mouth turned up. "I have to work. I had to trade with Mrs. Newton to get yesterday off."

"Oh," I replied, nodding.

"So you'll come over when I'm home, though, right?" That hopeful look again.

"If you want me to."

"I always want you," she stretched into the tips of her toes to meet my eye line. The deep pools of her brown eyes were burning, but I already felt myself retreating.

"All right, then," I answered, kissing her forehead. I was torn between enjoying what I already knew to be my last moments with Bella, and wanting a clean break for myself. I shut the door to her truck and walked unseeingly to my own car.

—

Chief Swan was home when I stopped by. I knew Bella was at work, but having spent many afternoons alone with Charlie, a little one on one time before my departure seemed required as to not show my cards.

I rapt at the door gently, and turned the knob. My afternoon visits were somewhat regular, and I knew he hated to get up to answer the door.

He was seated on the plaid couch, his uniform shirt unbottoned. Same old relaxed Charlie. _Good,_ I thought. _Don't tip him off._

I came in and sat in the easy chair that faced the TV. A game was on. Normally, I'd stash stats and play-by-plays in my mind to review with Emmett later, but I focused my attention on being the picture of nonchalance. I had worked for months to return to Charlie's good graces after the unfortunate incident of our baseball date resulting in Bella flitting off to Arizona and returning in a cast. Though Charlie was never able to fully pin the blame on me, he never felt as trusting of Dr. Cullen or his son ever again.

At the time, I had tried to spin it. _I went to ask her to return to Forks_, I had said. _I didn't like the idea of her in Phoenix all by herself_, I'd suggested. Still, I could catch the edge of his thoughts when it was quiet enough. He was skeptical, at best, about me and my family.

Quiet afternoons while Bella worked at Newton's seemed to smooth things over a bit. Comment a bit on the game. Sit quietly. Laugh at the commercials. Every now and again, like this afternoon, he'd order a pizza, or come home with burgers, fries, diner take-out. I'd dutifully choke down whatever glob of human food was presented. _Good crust on this one, Chief Swan,_ I'd say, knowing I'd be hacking it up the moment I was out of human eye- and earshot.

It was the same this afternoon. He didn't ask about the birthday party, and I didn't bring it up. I knew he'd noticed that I had returned his daughter in less than perfect condition, but I also knew he was aware of how clumsy Bella is. Could have been any kind of accident that caused the gash. But it wasn't just any accident. It was my steel arm, flinging her into a neatly stacked pile of glass plates. She'd crashed down on them like a flimsy rag doll, and the blood flowed freely. To think that had been an act of protection!

Time moves very slowly for someone who has forever stretched out in front of him, and while I tried to focus in on the moment — act human — the minutes ticking by without Bella here were starting to wear on my nerves. How was I going to last even one second when I knew she wasn't just around the corner?

My hands were digging into the cushions of the chair when I started to hear Bella's truck coming up the road. Relief.

"Dad? Edward?" She called from the entry. The wet sound of her raincoat on the hook was followed by the creak of the floorboards under her light feet.

"In here," Charlie echoed on both of our behalves.

The surprise on her face when she saw me was something I hoped I'd never forget. Bella's expressions, so wide and varied, has always amused me, even before I knew I loved her. But now, every sideways glance, every flush of her cheeks, each gasp or giggle or frown, endeared me more to her. These were my last moments with her expressions. I knew for her to survive without me, she must forget, but I knew for me to survive without her, I could never.

My eyes raked over her face. It took me only an instant to etch her expression into my brain before I trained my eye again on the TV. I wasn't worried about reading her face, I was concerned about her reading mine.

"Hi," she breathed. It nearly broke my heart.

Her dad was mumbling something about the pizza but my ears were whirring with the sound of Bella's breathing reaching a new rate of speed.

I looked at the TV. Tiny figures darted across the screen. I realized I wasn't even sure what sport was on, much less what team. Bella was hovering by the door, waiting for me.

"I'll be right behind you," I said, meeting her eyes for a moment, before feigning interest in he television set again.

I felt her eyes on me again, but stayed frozen. There was so much yet to do, and I couldn't make myself take the steps towards completing them. I sensed the nerves rippling off of Bella. If only I could read her mind! Who was I kidding? I knew she felt something was wrong. She wasn't stupid. Of course she knew what was coming. _Just another day_, I told myself.

Charlie gave some platitude about the team. "It's early in the season, they've got time," I heard myself say. Ha! Charlie chuckled. "I've been telling myself that for the last 15 years!"

Bella shuffled from the kitchen to her bedroom. The pizza she was supposed to eat remained untouched. How long could I go on like this, pretending it was a normal afternoon? How long could I pretend that I was not about to blow up this life, this family? I ached for this part to be over. The sooner I finally hurt her, the sooner she could begin recovering.

From my peripheral, I saw Bella come back down the stairs. She was being adorably sneaky, and had I been in a lighter mood, I might have turned to smile at the camera she was raising to her face. Instead, I pretended not to see as the shutter snapped closed, capturing the right side of my face in the dim glow of ESPN's SportsCenter.

Charlie grumbled a complaint, and I thought to smile in her direction, but for once my reaction was too slow for the moment. The face I saw in the reflection of her brown saucer irises was blank and expressionless.

The Swans had a short back and forth that I barely registered until, "Hey Edward. Take one of me and my dad together."

Perhaps even she didn't notice it, but she was shaking. Standing there next to her father, a picture of American Gothic, only more strained. "You have to smile, Bella," I murmured, unsure if she could even hear me.

In a remote, robotic way, her lips pulled back in a vacant smile. I could see the tiniest of tears welling in her eyes. It was like looking in a mirror — everything I felt was being outwardly expressed on Bella's face, even as she tried to repress any betraying emotions.

Charlie then turned the camera on me. All of this felt so crushingly mundane. I had my plan. Why wasn't I acting on it?

I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, extra careful to not let her feel my cool skin, to not let my iron arm hurt her again. Her good arm snaked around my waist and dug in. It was strange feeling her human strength grip me with what must have been most of her brute force. I pretended not to notice.

The flash popped and Bella's eyes fluttered in response. Again, I thought too late to mimic this reaction, so I just dropped my arm from her shoulder and as gracefully as I could manage, wriggled out of her grasp.

Charlie wedged the camera somewhere into the couch and the charade was over.

We all sat silently until the show was over. I doubted that Charlie could sense the tension in the room — the tenor of his thoughts were so jubilantly fixed on the TV — but Bella was positively vibrating as she sat on the floor by the couch. I watched as she tried in vain to hide it from me.

I felt myself vacillating between feeling every blow of human emotions, and retreating deep into myself and feeling nothing.

As the show ended, I rose from the chair. I didn't know what excuse I could give for needing to leave, but I couldn't stay in this tiny room in this tiny house with a girl whose life I was about to ruin, with her father there to watch.

"I'd better get home," was all I could muster.

The TV was already leading into the next show. Charlie didn't even turn to look at me. Maybe this was the last time we'd ever see each other? He was blissfully unaware. "See ya."

She followed me to the door, like a gosling paddling along behind their mother. "Will you stay?" Her voice barely tipped up at the end. I could tell she was catching on.

I felt myself take a step deeper into myself, pulling away from her. "Not tonight."

Her arms dangled by her sides limply as I folded myself into the front seat of my car and pulled away. Tiny specks began to dot the windshield.

It was sleeting rain when I arrived at the Cullen house. As I turned onto the long driveway, I realized I had no reason to go in. I had to avoid Alice until this whole thing was over. Perhaps she was inside the darkened house, I didn't care. I didn't try to hear her thoughts, find out where she was. Her influence would only annoy me at best. I looked again at the house. I wasn't going back inside. Hell, there wasn't even any furniture inside.

I couldn't recall the last time I'd hunted and while I didn't feel particularly thirsty, I wasn't sure what else to do until sunrise. Friday would be my last day in Forks, I had decided, the rest was a mystery even to myself. The least I could do was eat.

I made a u-turn at the top of the drive, the house all but invisible deep in this forest without the lights on. I drove until the echo of human thoughts faded from my mind. I wasn't sure where I was, but I pulled the car into a stretch of heavy brush, got out and started walking into the night.

When the sun rose on Thursday, my belly sloshed with the spoils of the evening. The carcasses I'd left in my wake might have impressed Emmett had he been here. I wasn't even sure when I'd see him again. I'd save this story for our reunion.

I hadn't even dirtied my clothes in the hunting process, but as is customary for humans, I changed at home before driving to school.

I thought being fed might bring me some clarity, but I found it pulled me deeper into myself — closer to the vampire I really was. I knew today was the day, and any time I tried to think about what I was about to do, the sting of it struck me so violently, I instinctively retracted from feeling anything.

I spent the school day quietly hovering by Bella, just as I always had. Everything in the world felt upside-down to me, but I hoped I was maintaining some level of normalcy for her. I could tell by the way that she missed Mr. Berty's question in English, that I was failing.

It was time to start acting on my plan. The first thing to do was erase any shred of evidence that I had even been in her life. I knew that if she came across even the tiniest memento, it could send her off in a million directions — from perhaps trying to search for me, to the worst of all cases, suicide. I had to prevent any such occurrences at all costs.

So, as she drove out of the school parking lot on her way to Newton's, I set off for her house. As she peered out of the glass of the drivers-side door, noticed her forehead wrinkle in confusion, then wince as her wounded arm turned the steering wheel away from me. Watching her delicate face contort with hurt — both from my absence and the wrapped gash on her arm — twisted my insides. It both affirmed the necessity of my departure, and deepened my desire to run to her, catch her in my arms, and never let go. Only one of those options would come to fruition today.

So, moments after I watched her reluctantly climb into her truck and pull away from school, I scaled the side of her house, and slid the window open for the very last time.

It felt unchivalrous to steal her things, so I gathered up the CD of my music I had given her only minutes before Esme's present had nearly killed her, I pulled the photos of me from her bulletin board and scrapbooks, and I stacked the Quileute legends, the dried purple flowers from our meadow, the blouse she had been wearing the first time our lips touched, the myriad of unopened birthday gifts. Using the tips of my marble fingers, I pried open a floorboard and placed the things inside the cavity below. I hoped to heaven she'd never find it, but took solace in knowing I wasn't robbing her of her life, or possessions.

I sat on her bed for a while after I'd finished my mission, looking at the rocking chair I'd often rested in. Knowing I'd never again enter this room, never again sit in that chair, never again hear her muffled breathing, her mumbled ramblings, never, ever again experience this sweet scent that was hanging in the air. These plain facts filled me with a simultaneous satisfaction, and overwhelming heartbreak.

I needed to put distance between Bella and myself. I knew that even if I were still stealing into her room every night to watch her eyes stutter and dart in her sleep, to her I could be as good as gone. There was no chance she would detect my presence while she fitfully dreamt. I could lurk in the shadows, stay unnoticed in the town of Forks. I could keep my distance, silently observe.

But I knew I would not be able to resist stepping in the next time she stumbled, tripped, or fell. I closed my eyes and remembered the shallow scrapes on the heels on her hands the day she returned from her trip to the beach at La Push. Had I been within fifteen yards of her, I could have caught her by the waist before her hands even jutted out to break her fall.

No, if I were near her, the overwhelming desire to protect this woman-child would override every logical impulse. The ruse would be up by next week. No doubt, the danger that invariably finds her would be knocking at her door by then.

I thought also, as I had months ago, that one day, she would say yes to the Mike Newtons of the world. This idea, when it passed through my mind all that time ago, before Bella had ever said yes to _me_, was a piece in the puzzle that pushed me towards her. The pain, the outright rage, that had broken out inside of me in the tiny moment that hung between Mike asking Bella to prom and her declining, was more than any human could have bore. But I withstood it.

Could I watch it play out in reality?

Simply imagining her proceeding without me into love, life, marriage had nearly broken me that afternoon. If I were to stay — if I were to _see — _there would be no telling how I would react. Though my violent days were behind me, I was sure that I still held the capacity to kill for this woman. I shuttered to think of whatever human might be in my way.

I had to think of somewhere to go. I had so much to run from, but nothing to run to. I thought of returning to Chicago to see if any living relatives of my mother's were still alive, but the idea of having to interact with humans at this time was washed away by the realization that I simply couldn't handle that today. Or this year. Or maybe for the rest of the century.

What I needed was wide open spaces and good hunting. As if on instinct, my head bent to my left, East. Idaho felt too close to Washington state, still, but Montana... To memory, I hadn't been to that state, my stomach rolled at the thought of wild elk and tiny fox. It was better than nothing, I thought. Much better than staying here. A couple hundred miles between us would be a good start.

Sighing one final breath, I hoisted myself from her bed, and slipped quietly out her window, managing to lock it from the outside. I stood for a while in the shadows of the encroaching forest until Bella came home. I watched through the window as she penned a letter and stuffed and envelope. Spying from this distance affirmed that there was no chance of me staying here and staying away from Bella. I ached to be inside that room with her.

I stalked off into the dark night.

I almost didn't even bother showing up to school on Friday. I knew it would worry Bella if I didn't, but I couldn't stand to be near all those children, hear the blather of mundane and petty gossip, be privy to the perverse and shortsighted thoughts of teenagers. I saw clearly what I was about to do, and while I would not be deterred from my path, I knew that being in the vicinity of Jessica Stanley or Mike Newton on today of all days would make me less predicable than I had ever been. I forced myself to turn up. If only as one final chance to steady Bella. Maybe today would be the last normal day she'd experience at Forks High School this year. I at least owed her that.

I couldn't tell you where the day went. My anxiety rumbled under the surface of every class, every interaction. I retreated deep into myself to steady my nerves, block out anything that might provoke me.

After the final bell, I walked Bella to her truck. She stopped before getting in, hiked her backpack up on her shoulders as if she were about to make a speech. I cut her off mid-breath.

"Do you mind if I come over today?"

"Of course not," she replied as her brows knit together.

I opened the door, resisting the urge to stuff her inside. I was ready for this part to be over. "Now," I asked, impatiently.

"Sure," she sigh shakily. "I was just going to

drop a letter for Renee in the mailbox on the way. I'll meet you there."

There was a thick envelope on the passenger seat. I didn't have time to waste while she ran her errands. Without truly thinking, I reached across her and snatched the parcel.

"I'll do it," I whispered. "And I'll still beat you there." I tried to smile warmly at her, but I couldn't make it reach my heart. There was little feeling left in there.

"Okay," was all she mustered before she turned the engine and pulled away.

I carefully unsealed the envelope and removed the photos of me. It was too late to stash these under her floorboards, so I took the one of us standing together in her father's living room, folded it in half and tucked it in the breast pocket of my shirt.

—

I reverted to the monster I once was. Not the one who sought to end lives, to rejoice in the drinking of blood. No, not the smiling demon who delighted in the violence of sinking his teeth into the necks of murderers.

Instead, I connected to the being who had no feelings. The one that felt no remorse as futures were altered and destroyed. The devil who only acted, but felt nothing. The same way I had restricted my breath the first time I had met her, I cut off access to my own heart.

Detachment was the only way I was going to get through this next part. I considered simply leaving Forks, but I knew she'd come after me. No doubt she'd injure, maim, or kill herself chasing after us. I weighed the option of telling her directly that her fragile human life was not compatible with the inherent dangers of my vampiric one. I could just tell her simply that I needed her to have a life, a human life; that I couldn't bear the thought of robbing her of a normal future, or a future at all. Perhaps I could just reason with her that it was better off that I leave now. But I knew none of that would work. I couldn't just explain that I was trying to save her life. No! Not to this woman who lacked any sense of self-preservation. The truth would not work this time.

If I were to tell her to truth, it would have to be all of it. That I loved her. I loved her more than anything I had come across in over a century of living this frozen life. I would have to tell her that I knew beyond a shadow of a whisper of a doubt that I would never again care so affectionately for another the way I had for her. I would have to tell her that to walk away from her was like shredding my own soul, if that's what I had, in two. I'd have to explain that this separation would break me. I'd have to tell her that I knew I'd never recover from losing her. And I couldn't do that.

So once again, I steeled my heart and set forward on my path.

—

I stood on the small lawn to the side of the Swan house. A chill ran through my icy veins when I remembered that late afternoon last spring when Bella lay reading in this dewy patch of grass. The thrill I had felt when I heard her sigh my name! My hopes had never flown so high.

How bleak and dreary this afternoon seemed by comparison.

The rumble of her old truck alerted me to her imminent arrival. I arranged my features to hide the agony that was ripping through the center of me. She pulled parallel to the front of the house and cut the engine. I could sense her pause as she eyed me through the truck window.

_Let's make this quick_. I thought coldly to myself. Neither she nor I could bear the ache of this anticipation.

"Come for a walk with me," my voice was barely above a whisper. I turned and she followed me up the narrow path behind her father's house. We'd only walked a few paces into the shadows of the trees when I turned to face her. Her knees knocked like a startled colt's.

She squared her shoulders. "Okay, let's talk."

I inhaled deeply. "Bella, we're leaving."

She slowly nodded her head, processing. "Why now? Another year— "

I had to lie. To say to her now that this was all in pursuit of giving her a better life would be foolish. She'd never agree that a life apart was better. Though I was resolved, the next few words felt strange, irrelevant.

"Bella, it's time. How much longer could we stay in Forks, after all? Carlisle can barely pass for thirty, and he's claiming thirty-three now. We'd have to start over soon regardless."

There was a pause as I watched the wheels in her head begin to move. It was clear she knew this was a different kind of conversation to any one we had ever had before, but her human desperation to cling to the status quo — the existence of our relationship — was about to make this more difficult than even I was prepared for. I could only stare blankly back at her.

"When you say 'we'...?"

_Say it_, I told myself. _Do it now._ "I mean my family and myself." There it was. Finally out there. The final part of my worst nightmare.

"Okay. I'll come with you," she insisted. It would have almost been humorous if it weren't so bleak. The furious kitten. But there was no joy in this. It was time to tell the blackest lie I'd ever utter. Say it, and be done.

"Bella, I don't want you to come." My mouth closed on the last syllable with the finality of a jail cell door sliding closed.

"You don't want me?" She spoke slowly, methodically, as if she were trying out a new language.

What could I say to her now? I had to lie. "No." I stared deep into her. _Please get this. Please understand what I'm trying to do._

"Well, that changes things," her voice was steadier now somehow. I sensed she was losing touch with reality, slipping away from the moment.

I looked over the top of her head, not able to meet her eyes this time. I tried to soften the blow. "Of course, I'll always love you... in a way. But what happened the other night made me realize that it's time for a change. Because I'm... tired of pretending to be something I'm not, Bella. I am not human." I looked into her eyes once more, holding my own expression perfectly still. "I've let this go on much too long, and I'm sorry for that."

That's when she began begging. I nearly gave in then. I wished so badly I could fall to my knees and beg _her_ forgiveness for ever even dreaming of leaving her. I wished I would apologize for her birthday, for Jasper's appalling behavior, and for mine, even worse. I wanted so badly to declare myself again to her, to tell her how wretchedly in love with her I am.

But the door was closed. I reached again towards the cold monster within me.

"Edward, please. Don't." Her words barely touched me now, as I detached from the horror unfolding before my eyes.

"You're just not good for me, Bella." I stood still as a stone and waited for her response.

"If… that's what you want," she peered up at me, confusion and sorrow coloring her face and words.

I bobbed my head once in response. She blanched. I stepped further into the monster.

"Just promise me one thing," I croaked, "don't do anything reckless." I tried not to picture it, but I know that without me here to look after her, the trouble that invariably finds her could one day claim her life. If I was leaving her, it was so she could live a normal human life. And she had to _live_ for that to happen. If my leaving resulted in her demise, there was no chance I could go on existing. I cleared my throat, and tried to balance the power again. "I'll promise you something in return. It'll be as if I never existed, I promise. You can go on living without any interference from me."

I could hear her again begin to protest, but it was done. I came to do what I needed to do. It was time for the hardest part.

And with one final kiss — the heat of her forehead burning raw through my lips — I watched as her eyelids drooped in grief. I took the one split second as she inhaled to try to argue with me once more, to ungrasp my hand from her shoulder, and take a silent step backward. With a smooth pivot of my feet on the forest floor, my muscles coiled, so that before I could convince myself to stay for one more kiss, perhaps to let her talk me into one more day, before I could even allow myself to fantasize of never having to leave at all, I sprang like lion and raced deep into the woods.

Every muscle was aching for me to turn around. If I had allowed myself to take in even a single, shallow breath, I knew my throat would catch the scent of her, the milky wet tears that were undoubtedly dropping from her deep brown eyes, the aroma of her intoxicating breath as she heaved sobs and screamed my name, the heavy, heady bouquet of her blood, only barely masked by the stench of iodine. I knew that if I let myself relax even one iota, the choking pseudo-sobs only vampires make would give me enough pause to undo my entire plan.

So as my shoes pummeled the dirt, I repeated my mantra: "leave her to save her.


	3. You don't feel any better

As I entered the garage, less than a half a minute later, Alice's thoughts began to penetrate the bubble I was trying to build around me. She was seated on the steps by the entrance to the main house, her ankles crossed on the garage floor. Her tiny hands held her tiny face. I could barely look at her.

_Please_, she thought. _Rethink this. _I watched her mind as, like a movie reel, the future played out in front of me.

_Oh, I'll rethink this alright, _I mused to myself, wryly.

I could see that she was dissatisfied with the image of me pacing the plains of Montana, hunting the smallest of game — hare and squirrels. Why had she pictured me this way? Was I too depressed, too weak, to take on the grizzlies? The elk? The mountain lion?

No matter, in an instant I decided I wasn't going anyway. Not there anyhow. What consequence was it? It made no difference where I went. I would be away from Bella anywhere that wasn't here.

I tried to reaffirm my plans in my head, knowing the images of me, alone, far, far from here and her, would appear in her minds eye.

I could feel as she tried to decide to run to Bella — the very _name_ stung me — herself. But there I was, stopping her along every path.

Her mind flickered on something. I could see what she was doing. It was the power of suggestion. But she wasn't wrong. Her eyes rested on a packed bag by the door.

My jaw tightened as I accepted that she was right. I wouldn't be running east today, I'd be flying. South.

Either way, neither of us were staying here. She sighed. I knew I was breaking her heart, too.

To think that Alice's party had ended in this.

Without another word, she walked the length of the nearly-empty garage, folded herself elegantly into the drivers seat of Jasper's car, and pulled the door shut with a very final sounding thud. She didn't even turn to look at me as Jasper pulled the car out.

I paced over to my Aston Martin, running my hand along the hood, as I climbed in. It was goodbye to this thing, too. I'd leave it at the airport, let it be reclaimed, go to auction, be stolen, whatever.

I was never, ever coming back to Forks.

—

I was at SEA-TAC in under two hours. I floored the Aston Martin and let the rumble of the engine drown out my thoughts. I pulled into a decrepit looking warehouse about a mile outside the airport, parked the car just under the overhang of an abandoned workspace — no need to let the paint get damaged from exposure — and left the keys on the drivers seat. I pulled Alice's duffel bag from the trunk. I didn't need or want anything, but she knew a distraught looking man without luggage at an airport tends to stand out. Of course, I had already booked myself private air travel, but nonetheless I took the bag with me.

It was difficult to make myself walk at a human speed, especially since I was sure no one was around to see me, but I knew these were the first hours of the next very many that would be among the most careful of my life. Every step, every movement, every thought and word and breath from now until the end of all my days, would be in pursuit of never seeing Bella ever again.

It took me another 13 minutes to arrive at the plane. The flight was 3 hours to Los Angeles, where I would switch planes and fly to Miami. Then it was onto Rio, then a boat to the islands, and a short walk up the sand to the front door of the main house on Isle Esme.

—

I could remember every searing moment with perfect recall. How I longed to sleep, to be able to turn off this endless tape of replay. I knew, however, that even if I could sleep, it would not bring the oblivion I craved. I knew now, as I knew the first night I watched Bella dream, that if I were able to to submit to unconsciousness... all I would see is her.

So I lived this waking nightmare instead. Without her, there was nothing. It was as though I was plunged into night. The whole world seemed to turn the black and white, the color had all run out of it.

The loop of confusion, shock, horror, sorrow, indigence, and grief playing out on Bella's face as she stood on the path behind her father's house would not stop echoing in my mind. There was nothing I could do to silence that memory, so I set about going through the motions.

The moment I arrived at Isle Esme, I knew it was a mistake. I couldn't bear to stay here, it was a place I had often fantasized about bringing _her_ to. I imagined that I would find solitude on this vast island, but she was everywhere I looked.

I dropped my bag just inside the door, and fished around the immaculate house around for a burner phone and some cash. Carlisle stocked both in a hallway closet behind a stack of luxurious bath towels. I chuckled coldly. _Props, even here._

I'd been on the island for less than an hour when I decided to head back to the mainland. I'd need animals to hunt, and I'd need a distraction. I wanted to be by myself, that is, away from my family. But I didn't want to be alone.

I considered swimming back, just to try to feel something other than this aching misery, but I knew the boat would need to be docked back in the marina for the next Isle Esme visitor. I amazed myself that I was able to even consider courtesy at a time like this. Perhaps I was trying to hold onto what little human decency she had instilled in me.

Nonetheless, I couldn't stay here. I pulled the clothing Alice had packed for me out of the bag, and stuffed them in the garbage. I had no use for them where I was going. As I want emptying the bag, my hand brushed a crisp folded paper.

There, in Alice's tiny scrawl, three words: _You will reconsider._

What little was left of my cold, dead, broken heart, seemed to fissure even more. Poor, dear Alice, still holding onto the shred of hope that Bella could be in our lives. It felt wrong of me to deprive my favorite sister of such a friendship, but I knew that even gentle, pixie-like, tiny Alice, could accidentally crush Bella's skull while braiding her hair. Bella simply wasn't meant for our world. I had to remind myself that a clean break was the only way any of us could move forward. If I had allowed Alice to linger, there would have been no chance that Bella's human memory would obliterate my existence.

I suppose Alice had already seen me read her note and throw it in the trash, so I felt little guilt in doing just that. There was no chance for reconsideration. This was my life now.

_Leave her to save her_, I repeated to myself, as I tucked the cash and phone into the duffle, and headed for the boat.

—

It had been my plan to use the cash to rent a tiny apartment in Rio, just on the outskirts, close enough to prey, and close enough to the city to keep me from the freezing kind of isolation I knew would ruin me. But I found that the locals leaned away from me as I moved through the throngs of shoppers and partygoers at the markets. Their native legends taught them that their revulsion, even a subconscious one, was correct. I knew no right-minded Brazilian would rent to me. The cacophony of Portuguese made it hard to make out any clear thoughts, but the ones I did catch from passersby were not favorable about me — _demônio_, I heard at least one mentally bark in my direction. They knew I was not like them.

What did it matter anyway? This wasn't Forks. I wasn't in high school anymore. I didn't need to blend in here. How could I? My painfully white skin pulsed with an unnatural glow, even at night. I could never come out during the day. There was no one to keep appearances up for. No one to report to, or protect. No reason to even continue going on in this charade. All I needed was a place to retire to during the daylight hours, and weekly trips to drink on whatever local fauna I could find.

Busying myself with the minutiae of these barely necessary logistics served as much less of a distraction than I had hoped for. I was never not thinking of her. I found my mind returning to her, and like a human placing their hand on a hot stove, I jumped each time, surprised by the pain. Yet, voluntarily or not, my thoughts drifted to her.

If it wasn't a memory of the countless nighttime hours I'd spend in her room, it was wondering what she was doing now — worrying even, knowing what I had done was truly unforgivable. Forgiveness didn't matter when I knew I'd never see her again.

And there was the return of the searing, untenable, hollow-aching pain.

Without my noticing at first, I found that her face was once again forming behind my eyelids. It began just as a flicker of a flash when I blinked. There! There she was, in perfect clarity, if only for just a fraction of a second. Last year, when I had gone up to Alaska to escape Bella's — I winced at the name — all too temping scent, I found that I couldn't get her off my mind. Her face was always smiling for me when I closed my eyes. I remember staring up at the northern lights but only seeing pools of chocolate brown eyes looking back at me. It was happening again. Only worse.

The last look she had given me, the one of absolute bewilderment, was etched into my cornea. I'd never forget it even if I lived another ten thousand years. The way her brows knit together, her full bottom lip quivered as she fought the tears, their eventual welling in her eyes. I hated myself for having made her do that, and my punishment was to never be able to escape that face.

Though I felt physically strong, and mentally alert, a strange fog of exhaustion began to settle over me.

How many hours had I been without her? Less than twenty four. I counted over the day's events. It had been sixteen hours and 34 minutes since I'd last laid eyes on her. How was I going to survive the next hour? The next minute even? I considered going hunting to distract me, but my belly still sloshed with the deer and elk I had gorged myself on back home, well, back in Forks that is.

The phrase _home is where the heart is_ came to mind. I let out one dark chuckle. I hadn't had a soul since 1918, and my frozen heart had begun to thaw last spring. But where was it now? I had left it with her, and she didn't even know to look after it.

The sun would be coming up soon. I had to find some place to hide. I walked up the quiet, deserted roads, away from the dock where I'd left the boat. The scent of alcohol, human sweat, rising yeast, and soapy astringent emanated from the abandoned bars, and tiny bakeshops along the alley-like streets. Above, a cacophony of restless dreams fluttered the night air. I could already feel the day getting hotter in the pre-dawn hours, and my desperation to find concealment became pressing. Without much thought, I scaled the edge of a brick and plaster building and hoisted myself onto the roof.

The months passed in painful ebbs and flows. Sometimes I could lose myself in the oblivion of monotony, but mostly I just lay here and let the misery have me. Much like the moon's pull on the waves at the waters edge, I felt myself wax and wane with the longing to see Bella again. Her draw on me was nearly irresistible. Whenever I allowed myself to think of her, I'd dip into the fantasy of returning to Forks. I knew I would not find the same woman that I had left, because I was not the same man that had left her. I was smaller, ragged around the edges, broken by the sheer weight of my agony without her. But imagining snaking my arms around her tiny, fragile, warm, human body almost felt like a salve on my wounds. The near-pleasure of thinking of her washed like an analgesic over me.

But allowing myself to live in these ministrations always left me worse off than I had been before them. Whatever relief I garnered from these Bella fantasies only dug me deeper into my hole of misery.

I had loved her more fiercely than any human had ever been loved. And that had to be enough.

I imagined her falling for someone else, a Mike Newton or Eric Yorkie tyler, and tried to garner what solace I could from that. Perhaps she was finally living out the life that was designed for her. She would love quietly with this other human, get married, have babies, grow old, and die. Like every human should.

It wasn't until I heard the tearing of my shirt that I realized I had ripped a hole over my left chest, where my frozen heart should have been beating.

If only I could have been human!

The frustration gripped me in its paradox. If I had been human, if I had somehow survived the Spanish influenza that claimed my mother and me in 1918, it's likely I wouldn't have been been alive in 1986, at the time of Bella's birth. I would have, at best, been an 85-year-old man in the winter of my life.

I realized with horror that perhaps I had been changed into a vampire, frozen in time, for the sole purpose of meeting Bella. Was there any other reason I had lived this long, but to finally be rewarded with my perfect mate? And I had ruined it. Whether by virtue of being a vampire alone, or because of all the stupid, reckless decisions I had made from the moment I met her... it was all for nothing.

And now I was here. Rotting away in the attic above some slum in god knows where. Except I wasn't even rotting. Even in my inert state, I remained perfect. Weather, nor time, nor circumstance would ever change me. My clothes began to wear, but were not stained with sweat or blood. I felt dust began to gather in my eyes and throat from holding so still. But I was still me.

My thirst built with every day, but it was bearable — nothing compared to the raw, searing pain that coursed through every fiber of my being from missing Bella and hating myself.

How long would I have to exist like this? Could I outwait this misery? Perhaps knowing Bella had lived a full life and was finally resting too would bring me some peace.

The moment the thought crossed my mind, I swelled with guilt. _You selfish hag!_

I was now wishing for Bella's death — even years off — in order to gain some relief. And even so, I knew I'd never forget her. Not in a hundred years. And if I lived so long, not in a thousand either. I wondered if even as I petrified, turned to stone, was torn limb from limb, even if I burned, would I still writhe in this agony for all eternity? Would even my ashes feel this ache?

As I considered it, I realized that I hoped I never healed from this. If I began to recover, it would be to dishonor every beautiful moment I had spent with her. The pain of losing her was the only proof I had that what we shared was real. If it had been the kind of shallow human romance that I was unfortunately privy to as a mind reader in a high school, I was sure that the emptiness would have healed by now.

But it hadn't. The emptiness seemed to find a new bottom with every rising of the sun, with every new moon.

October and November passed in a sort of suspended animation. I hunted every nine days, I lay in this hovel, and I ached for Bella. There was nothing else.

But when December rolled around, the height of the Brazilian summer, it suddenly struck me with such force — I was done here. I was tired of hiding.

I lay staring at the low beams of the ceiling above me and allowed myself to drift. I rewound the memories of the past year. My trip to Brazil, my departure from Forks, Jasper's attack, Bella's birthday party, the start of senior year once again, the most beautiful and peaceful summer spent in the meadow with her, and then just before that one blissful summer — the unbelievable horror of having to find precious, tiny, beautiful Bella lying in a hospital bed covered nearly top to foot in bandages. Because of me.

Remembering tearing James limb from limb brought me the kind of rapturous pleasure I hadn't allowed myself to explore in months. Recalling the screeching sound my teeth made as they cut into him, as arms were torn from socket, legs dismembered from torso, the fire licking around his marble frame.

But then, like a movie playing in slow motion, my memory panned again to Bella. There she was, human, bloodied, vital as ever, but writhing in the singeing pain has James' venom violated her body.

I sat straight up.

Killing him hadn't been enough. The whole coven had to die. No, I paused. Not Laurent. He had, at the very least, given us warning. Didn't he deserve an ounce of mercy for that? I'll leave him be for the time, I thought. I could check in on his thoughts if I got close enough. But first, Victoria.


End file.
